


Aegis

by Milarca



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Collars, Ficlet, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5408285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milarca/pseuds/Milarca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>850 AD, Iceland. Aziraphale and Crowley share a quiet moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aegis

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FFN [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7987251/1/Aegis).

850 AD, Iceland

"You smell like honey and… mulled wine," Aziraphale paused, his nose brushing the barely-there stubble on Crowley's jaw, his eyes closed. A contented fire crackled in a craggy stone hearth, warming them both where they lay on a bunk lined with sweet straw and sheepskin. Aziraphale sighed and relaxed again, his head on Crowley's worn, velvety tunic.

"Mmm," Crowley hummed absently, tracing runes on Aziraphale's bare shoulder. _finaer. bitaer. hafn…_

Even in the somewhat crowded longhouse, the gentle sounds of sleeping humans lulled Crowley into an easy doze. He would have been asleep if not for the warmth-drunk angel nuzzling his throat. However, he had never been one to turn down cuddling in the middle of winter…

Aziraphale shifted, and Crowley felt the coolness of smooth, beaten metal on his chest, just between the laced open front of his shirt.

"Az, you alright?" he whispered, low. "It's not..." 

"What?" Aziraphale looked up from where his head had been tucked under Crowley's chin. His eyes were drawn and confused. "Oh," a flicker of contentment passed across his face, then he laughed a little not-laugh in embarrassment. "No. No, no." He settled back, liking Crowley's arms around him. "I… I quite like it."

"You don't think it's too…"

Aziraphale didn't answer. His breathing was soft.

Crowley pulled Aziraphale closer, just as a bitter draft blew in under the plank-rough door several bunks along. Crowley glanced to it irritably and the wood extended down, effectively blocking any further unwanted weather. Aziraphale didn't stir. The wind continued to howl. The beams creaked.

_mötunautr._

**Author's Note:**

> Old Norse translations:
> 
> aegis - protection, backing/support  
> finaer – to find  
> bitaer – to touch  
> hafn – haven/port (Old Danish)  
> mötunautr – companion


End file.
